


Religious Guilt

by Wolf_Lettuce



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Brendon is a fuck boy, Brendon is pretty much Saytromantic, Enemies to Lovers, Frank Iero Is A Little Shit, Gerard goes from a vampire bully to a vampire sweetheart, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Of Course Vampires Have You Met Me, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tyler and Josh are quirky beans, Vampires, once my brain works
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-25 20:13:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13220361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolf_Lettuce/pseuds/Wolf_Lettuce
Summary: Alright, so hear me out:Frank’s real life Catholic school, but It’s from the I’m Not Okay music video, I tweaked it a bit as well, A Male only Catholic School.But it operates like the shit from Vampire Knight (Don’t fucking judge me I had an Anime Phase)Basically: Vampires go at night, Humans go during the day.(Don’t worry, has nothing to do with Vampire Knight)And.Frank’s A fucking rebel who doesn’t give a shit about the rules (More about the money from the dare that got him into this night class mess).





	1. Magnificently Crude Spray Paint Penis

 

 

The last straw.

 

The Last Straw was the magnificently crude spray paint Penis.

 

Not only was this magnificently crude spray paint penis on public display, Oh no, This magnificently crude spray paint penis was on the side of Saint Peter’s Roman Catholic church.

 

Oh how joyous was his Mother when she received the phone call.

 

Long story short, that was the final Straw in the equation of:

“Franklin Anthony Iero If you don’t sort your behavior out I will personally send you to A Sleep Away Catholic School”

 

So.

There he stood on the stone steps of Saint Peter’s Roman Catholic School For Boy’s, A small bag tucked underneath his arm only carrying sleep attire, for, Frank only had graphic tee’s of obscene bands, and two pairs of ripped jeans.

 

He knew once he was escorted into the front office they’d pat him down, so he didn’t even bother to bring his Cigarettes or pipe, and once he made it past ‘The Fondlers’ He was sent on ahead of his luggage towards more office workers who asked his size, and after having three sets of suit pants, dress shirts, ties, Etc.

He was lead down an outstretched corridor, lined with Fast fading stained glass windows, Gothic architecture, and religious décor.

The sun had been setting, dim light trying to breathe through the windows, painting the wall on the other side of frank in hues of pinks, blues, and greens.

Frank’s chauffeur had stopped abruptly, gazing at the falling night, and grumbled something under his breath, then, as if nothing had happened, kept on walking, his pace quickened in the slightest sense.

 

Frank caught one word out of the ramblings of his Tour Guide.

 

“… _.Waking...”_

 

Frank fell behind the man and paused.

 

“What do you mean by _Waking?_ ”

 

“Do you have any manners, child?”

 

The man swung around his suit tie following him, almost slapping him in the face, And he raised a bonny finger in front of Frank’s face, towering over his five foot nothing.

 

“Now, Listen! You will respect me and you will respect everyone her-”

 

Just then a bell tolled.

An actual bell _Tolled._

In the church.

 

The man froze in place, his eyes wide, mouth having unspoken words, opened more in silent horror.

 

“Come now, quickly!”

“Yo, chill, what’s the ru-”

 

The man grabbed Frank by the wrist and yanked hard, taking off in a mad dash down the never-ending corridor.

 

“Dude, slow down!”

 

The painted wall had finally sunken in, and off one of the branches of the corridor, in their designated turrets, the night class began to stir.

 

The man arrived at the end of the vast corridor, he stopped at a wooden door, a perfect Gothic looking door, the kind you find in castles, and, well, old churches.

 

“This is your grade’s dorm, facilities are inside, bedrooms are up the stairs, past the common room, to the left, your door is open and fresh linens have been folded on your mattress, duvet’s are in the cupboard, And under no circumstance’s do you come out of this door at night, do you understand?”

 

“Um, no, not really,” Frank re-positioned his bag under his arm,” What happens at night? I mean, What’s the big deal?”

 

The man looked Frank straight in the eye , and without looking away, turned a skeleton key in the door, pushing it open with the same arm.

The man grabbed Frank’s wrist with the other, yanking him through the threshold.

 

“Just stay in your Dorm.”

 

And just like that, he slammed the door in Frank’s face.

 

“Fuckin Asshole”

 

Frank turned around in the dark space leading to the stone spiral staircase of the turret, the only light that paved his path was a strange orange glow at the top of the spiral, it angled in letting him see only most of the wall to his left.

Frank could see the soot stained cobble that made up his dorm’s turret, the stone steps were worn in the middle of them, something akin to those of the Tower of Pizza, three small arched stain glass windows were evenly placed along the left wall along with the soot stains.

 

He trudged up them cautiously, his mind turning as the steps and walls did, and once he reached the top of the steps he let go a sigh of uneasy breath.

 

The common room was a simple living room type space, covered in neatly kept bookshelves, a woven rug, monotone chairs, a love seat, and a simple stone fireplace.

The room smelled nice, pine, with warm cinnamon undertones, maybe this place wasn’t so bad.

 

Frank stood corrected as he strolled over to the side that held dorm’s, He passed five doors until he came to a stop in front of the only one that was open.

 

It was a fucking broom closet.

Not only was his room a broom closet, but they’re were bunk beds.

 

Bunk-Beds.

 

As in, he’d have to share a broom closet with some other seventeen year old at some point.

Fuck his life just kept on getting better and better.

 

He turned to the small window of his room, arched like all others, except this one was plain glass.

Frank could see the lawn from his room, it was covered with a blanket of fog, ominous, suspicious.

 

Frank took off his shirt, and threw on a pair of sleep pants, he set the sheets down on his floor, and didn’t even bother to grab a duvet.

 

Frank wasn’t going to sleep.

He was going to think.

 

He sat there.

From ten to twelve he could hear low murmurs, and footsteps from downstairs.

 

He listened.

From one to three he could hear whisper like laughs, perhaps of ghost’s from his past.

 

He caved.

From Four to Six, the footsteps returned, slower, as if people were dragging their feet on the stones of the schools corridors.

 

And then, the sun peeked over the dew covered lawn, and rested on franks darkened eye’s.

 

Investigate he must.

 

But, just then, as the thought occurred to him, a Plan of mischief.

 

A Bell Tolled.

 

And much more lively footsteps sounded closer.


	2. Chapter 2

So  
Listen.

My bitch ass needs frens  
Follow me on twitter

@Posey_Rayne

 

(I'll post some shit eventually, but I'm depressed, gaining weight, and I know you guys don't want to hear it.)

I'm leaving for New Orleans for a couple of day's so maybe I'll feel better when I come back.

DM me Ideas, dan and phil stuff, or if you generally just want a sad lil nerd to be friends with.

Please.  
My ass is desperate.

As you can see.

 

Bye.

-P.C.M.R.


End file.
